


Braids, the Words of Another Language

by MalpaisQuanta



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Braids, F/M, Petrashe Week (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27061012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalpaisQuanta/pseuds/MalpaisQuanta
Summary: The braids Petra wore had another meaning to them, one unknown to the people of Fódlan.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Petra Macneary
Kudos: 28





	Braids, the Words of Another Language

**Author's Note:**

> If I've messed up the spellings in this, please let me know.

The Brigidians had a way of communicating that remained unique to their culture. Perhaps it was ignorance from the Fódlan people that prevented them, or stopped them, from learning their second language. The people of Fódlan could learn Brigidese.

They never learned to read the braids. Braids, which carried many words they did not speak. Sorrow. Memories. Joy. Remembrance. The only person who she believed could read them was Claude, who wore his own braid. Woven in another language. Not hers.

No. Braids had different meanings to different cultures. Petra… she could not place the meaning behind the knots in Claude’s braid. He didn’t understand hers. She knew he couldn’t.

As a student at the Monastery, she’d styled hers in a warning. To the people of Fódlan, her hair was simply put up in that way for convenience. A way to keep it out of her eyes during her studies, during her battles. Only to other Brigidians would the true meaning of the braids come through.

A reminder. That no matter what the Adrestian Empire said, she was still the Princess of Brigid. If they threatened her people, she would defy them and fight against them.

She would also see some of the people of Fódlan, even those in the Monastery, with braids in their hair. Some were styled like Claude’s. Others bore no meaning in the knots, the pattern they had styled themselves in. Others yet made her feel unwell when she tried to read them, woven as confusingly and strangely as they were.

Ashe asked her about her braids, once. A book on Brigid traditions in his hand, he asked her why she wore them the way she did, that it must take a lot of effort to put it up like that. She explained the reasoning behind them, explained that it was a message in another form of Brigidese.

“Would you teach me how to braid my hair? So that it has a message like yours, I mean.”  
“You would need to be growing it out first, Ashe.” Long hair was the most important part to the braids. Without it, you would not have enough material to tell the story you wanted.

So he did. Five years into the war, the hair was long enough for Petra to be able to teach him a simple phrase in the Brigidian language of braids.

Working on Ashe’s hair provided a nice perspective change from her own. Her hair was long used to the complex braids and stories she’d weave through it, too used to being up for her to keep it down for long. The messages they carried were different now. Solemn vows to fight for Brigid. The Professor. Herself. For her loved ones.

Ashe’s hair was not used to the contortion hers was. It fought her, got stuck, hurt poor Ashe many a time. She winced every time she felt it pull a little too tight, fight a little too hard, but Ashe forgave her every time she apologised.

Brigid tradition stated that a simple message was enough for a first braid. That was what she wove into his hair. The same tradition also stated that the family of the person, or a loved one, should be the one to craft the first braid.

“It looks really good, Petra.” She had years of putting up the braids in her hair, yet Ashe’s comment still made her heart swell with pride. “What does it say?”  
  


“It means ‘I am loved’.”

“Oh!” Ashe blushed in that way that highlighted all his freckles, and she smiled. “Thank you, Petra.”

“It is of no problem, Ashe. When you come to Brigid, you must grow it out more, so I can teach you the meanings behind the longer braids, and how to make them yourself.”

“Then I will.” He smiled at her, the braid hanging from the side of his head in an adorable manner, and her own smile grew wider.

Braids carried different meanings, depending on how they were worn. She looked forward to teaching him the more complex ones.

**Author's Note:**

> I was talking to Prime about this a few months ago, and I've had this story saved for the Petrashe week since I felt it would be fun to write about, as well as some nice fluff for Petra and Ashe. The inspiration came from Ulysses from Fallout New Vegas and the story behind his hairstyle. 
> 
> Hopefully you guys enjoyed this! Happy birthday Ashe!


End file.
